


June 12th

by TheDawnDreamer (elitemassacre6)



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, F/F, Pezberry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 09:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elitemassacre6/pseuds/TheDawnDreamer
Summary: Something about June the 12th feels off from the moment Santana opens her eyes at five thirty eight that morning. Little does she know, the day will begin even more terribly than she imagined.





	June 12th

**Author's Note:**

> This one has been sitting around unfinished for quite a while, but I've been really motivated to write during this little mini vegan experiment the last several days. No dairy, no meat; I think I've been doing really well and I feel genuinely better. I definitely don't this is permanent, but I've been thinking the lack of dairy milk in particular might be something I can do for the foreseeable future. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the fic and have a beautiful upcoming weekend.

Something about June the 12th feels off from the moment Santana opens her eyes at five thirty eight that morning. There’s an ache throbbing behind her eyelids and temples and her neck feels bow tight. She sits up in bed, groaning, her dominant left hand immediately going to try and fix the tension headache first thing but it only causes more discomfort in her neck and shoulders.

More gracefully rolling off of her bed and onto her feet than actually standing from it informs her that pretty severe nausea has taken over her stomach. Her dad must be up and getting ready to leave for work, because there’s a sliver of light coming through the crack in her door. It forces her to screw her eyes shut and feel her way into the dark bathroom. 

Santana swallows down two Excedrin migraine and two tension with a few handfuls of water from the tap before squeezing her eyes shut long enough to crawl back into bed and pull her down comforter over her head.

Really, she guesses maybe making a doctor’s appointment would actually be a good idea. She’s been dodging it, obviously; but it’s been years since she’s had migraines so bad she wants to never leave the warm solace of her bed again. Having them so severely again and so frequently is what her doctor would call cause for concern.

And as much as she legitimately hated her doctor, she had to agree with the frigid bitch on this. After all, the last time her headaches were this horrible she almost died. So yeah, she’d call and make an appointment. Just...later, when she didn’t feel like her head was in some kind of medieval torture device. She sighed deeply before flipping her pillow over and pressing her forehead against the cool Egyptian cotton. 

Four hours later, she stirred long enough to flip her pillow again and then settled back down, prepared for more sleep.

She was just falling back into slumber when Kesha’s We R Who We R rang out from her phone. She groaned, folding her pillow up around her ears at the pain the loud music caused. The spike of sharp pain at her temples finally began to fade when the phone stopped ringing thirty seconds later only for it to start up again. Santana snatched it up off of her bedside table, swiping her thumb across to answer it.

“Britt I kind of really can’t talk right now, okay.” 

“Really? Why? Are you busy? Oh! Are you having sexy times? You’ve totally been moaning and groaning since you answered the phone, San.” 

“Britt, no. I have a really bad migraine, that’s all. And I told you I don’t ever want to do that with anyone but you again. I love you, Brittany. I told you that. And I don’t understand how you could think I would be sleeping with someone else...I want to be with you, Britt. I’m just, i don’t know giving you time. I know it’d be wrong to expect you to jump into a relationship with me when you and Wheels just broke up like two weeks ago.” 

“San...I think we need to talk.”

“Britt you’re making me nervous as fuck here.”

“I know, San, I’m sorry. Just...will you meet me at the Lima Bean? I promise I’ll explain everything there.”

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll be there in half an hour. Let me get up and get dressed, I’ll talk to you soon, love you, Britt.”

“… Love you too. I promise.”

Fuck, this shit was not helping her headache. Santana had been forced to watch enough rom coms with Quinn to know what we need to talk means. Was B seriously going to break up with her? Or rather, tell her she didn’t want to be with her, she guessed. Really, Santana didn’t even understand. It wasn’t like her blonde would-be girlfriend was still into Wheels, right? Because, like seriously, Santana had taken her to Breadstix, the duck pond, and a Pixar movie just three nights ago. Even going so far as to tell Britt that yea, it was totally a date.

Regardless of how much more nauseous this whole ordeal was making her, she got up and walked into her closet, grabbing a pair of shorts, a tank top, and clean underwear before walking into her bathroom. When she flicks the light switch on, she fails at ignoring the spike of pain that causes in her skull. Her headache would be getting much worse anyway. Of that much she was positive. 

 

-

 

Santana gets to the Lima Bean first and finds a table that isn’t her usual one that’s back in a corner that can barely be seen from the rest of the shop. Like she thinks maybe if she shows and tells Brittany about how she isn’t afraid to be out anymore this whole “talk” business won’t have to happen. Not that she’s the same girl she was last year. She definitely isn’t, seeing as the idea of sitting down and talking about her feelings no longer gives her hives. She can totally talk to Britt about her feelings, which she guesses she’s about to have to do. 

The bright lights flare up her headache in a way far more painful than the sun managed to now that she’s had to remove her shades. The smell of coffee churns her stomach, and for a moment Santana sort of wishes Brittany would have chosen another day to break up with her. 

It’s just as she realizes how angry she really is about all of this that Brittany walks in, blue eyes immediately looking towards the back with a heavy frown before she sees Santana sitting right in the middle of the shop. She looks around nervously before coming to sit down. She looks even more nervous than Santana had during their call half an hour ago, and she can’t help but take some minor satisfaction from that, no matter how petty.

Especially considering the fact that Brittany has been leading her along. Isn’t her anger justified because of that? Isn’t she allowed to feel something other than hurt? 

“San, you look sick, are you okay?” Santana knew she was genuinely concerned, but that felt like nothing in the face of what was to come. 

“I told you I have a migraine, Brittany. In light of all that, why don’t you just get this over with so I can go bury myself back under my sheets.”

Brittany looked unfairly nervous, and it only made Santana more angry, the furrow between her brows tightening until it made her headache flare up again. 

“Okay. I’m…Artie and I are back together.” Santana rolled her eyes and gazed around the room to cover up the way she wanted to sob her feelings out onto the stupid table. On her second time looking around her, hoping keeping her eyes moving would lower the chance of tears, she caught bright brown eyes staring back, stare as blank as possible, though it was easy to pick out their owners concern. 

Staring at Berry for another few seconds, Santana stood up when she looked back at Brittany, pushing her chair back under the table as she imagined staying in bed for the rest of the summer to get rid of her still throbbing migraine. 

Brittany called for her as she left the stupid coffee shop, but she didn’t follow, at least. That was someone else entirely. She stepped out into the sun, admittedly confused about why it was that real light didn’t worsen her headache. In fact it sort of soothed her to feel that warmth on her skin as she slipped on her shades. 

In fact, it wasn’t until she saw Artie sitting in his apparently new ride that she got really angry and her headache flared up, the throbbing increasing with her heightening pulse as she tightened her hands into furious fists. Her dull fingernails somehow cut crescents into her palms, and she stepped toward the curb, completely ready to go around to the drivers side and kick his ass when a cool hand met her flushed bicep and pulled her away, guiding her towards another shop, one Santana hadn’t even known existed. 

“Triple Berry Pick Your Own Juice Bar? The fuck did this come from?” She was still overheated, feeling as if she had a pretty legit fever, but Rachel ignored her question, swiftly jetting around the room as she grabbed a bunch of orange shit before she paused and turned back to look at her, giving Santana her first legitimate look at the younger girl. 

She’d cut her hair. It now rested in chocolate waves that barely touched her shoulders. 

“How’s your headache?” 

“Getting worse by the second with you dragging me around like you’re crazy.” That was only sort of a lie. The light in this place was natural, sunlight shining down through a massive skylight. There was some traditional lighting, but it was soft and soothing. 

“Sorry. Just couldn’t let you assault Artie. Give me a few minutes and this’ll be ready.” Rachel went back into juice-making mode immediately, jogging around the store to grab a shit ton more veggies. When she was done, she went behind the counter to make the juice, finally. 

Santana looked around the store, then up at a pretty massive skylight, something about the natural light seeming to help sooth her pain. She sat down on the floor directly under the it, soaking up as much of the sun as she could. It really did help her headache some, not to mention it soothing over her anger and all the pain that washed over her like waves whenever she thought of how Britt had done her. 

Before she knew it the sounds from behind the counter faded away as her eyes slipped closed. She breathed in the smell of all the produce and exhaled with a soft sigh until it became a pattern. One that led her to sort of fade away from reality for a moment. 

“Santana?” Shaking the nonexistent cobwebs loose, Santana opened her eyes and looked up at Rachel and the sort of orangish green juice she held. It didn’t exactly look appetizing , but she stuck the straw between her lips and drank anyway. Partly because she didn’t want to make Rachel feel bad about the whole thing. 

“Pretty good actually. I like ginger.” It tasted like if V8 wasn’t gross and was tailored exactly towards her. Orange bell peppers were her fav, and she seriously loved pineapple and mango. 

“I know you do. I’m glad you like it. It should help with your fever, your headache, and your nausea.” Santana nodded, humming to herself as she drank down nearly half of the juice, studying Rachel as she moved around the rather open shop. There were only four table sets, set equidistant from her position and the walls of produce. 

“I like the haircut, you know. It suits you. You always looked cuter without bangs. They hide your face.” That hadn’t been what she meant to say at all. She hadn’t intended on insulting Rachel exactly, but making fun a little? Joking with her? Yeah. 

She frowned at the juice in her hand, raising an eyebrow as she frowned up at Rachel, suspicious. 

“There’s nothing in it, Santana. Regardless of whether or not you meant to say it, thank you. You’re the first gleek I’ve run into since summer started, you know. I wasn’t sure how it would go over. I’m glad you like it. And since we’rour speaking about our hair, yours is just as gorgeous as always, though I do admit I’ve always wanted to see it fresh out of the shower. I’ve always imagined it to be pretty curly that way.” Well if that wasn’t an opportunity to make fun a tiny bit she wasn’t sure what was. Not that she didn’t appreciate the compliment. 

“Uh huh… you saying you been imagining me fresh outta the shower, Rachel? Naked and drippin wet?” Rachel’s immediately pink cheeks and the quiet mumble that Santana couldn’t make out all added up in a way that surprised her a bit. 

“What was that, Rachel?” It was easy to bring more husk into her voice, and the results were worth the minor effort. She watched as the still blushing girl bit into her lower lip after a quiet gasp, nodding an affirmative to Santana’s first question. 

“I… may have? I really was just curious about your hair the first time, but my imagination got away from me. First it was your collarbone, it’s always seemed sort of stark and elegant, you know. But then it was lower, to your breasts. Mind you this was sophomore year, so they were smaller, yes. But just as gorgeous as I imagined them. Not that it was hard after the car wash that year.” So Rachel was being about ten times as honest as she had expected her to be. And Santana eyed her appreciatively as she went behind the counter to clean up her mess from making the juice. 

Still, the mention of her natural boobs made her frown as she looked down at her chest. She couldn’t regret it given the circumstances under which she’d chosen to get these larger implants, but she sort of wished she’d gone with her natural size instead. 

“I had breast cancer.” Santana revealed, sipping at her juice after. She hated to think about how broken she’d been that summer. How sure she’d been after she’d been given her diagnosis that she’d die young and lonely. Rachel stopped what she was doing and came around, squatting in front of her. 

“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me, Santana. And I’m glad you’re still here, not that I ever would’ve doubted that even if I’d been by your side through it all.” Rachel took her free hand to hold, caressing her fingers, palm, and wrist in a way that made her relax. 

“Why not?” Her own soft, vulnerable tone was a surprise, but how could Rachel believe in her when she couldn’t believe in herself? She’d doubted she’d survive even when the doctors told her it was pretty possible she would as long as the cancer hadn’t spread too far. 

“Santana, sweetheart… you’re a fighter. A survivor. A warrior at heart. I have always believed in you. That nothing could really beat you…break you, unless you let it.” Santana just nodded, ignoring the tears in her eyes as she set her cup aside and brought her knees up to tuck her head into. She wrapped her free arm around herself, but Rachel wouldn’t let go. When she tugged to get her to free her right hand, she did the unexpected instead, wrapping her arms around her and pressing a needed kiss to her head. 

Then came the sobs, and Santana let them out for what felt like the first time, relaxing into Rachel’s gentle hold as the other girl shifted to sit down fully and rubbed her back. 

“I’m here. I’m right here, Santana.” That only made her cry harder. Years worth of loneliness and abandonment crashing down at her all at once. Rachel only held her closer, finally maneuvering them around so Santana was on her lap. 

“There we go, sweetheart. I’ve got you, let it out. Just make sure you breath for me.” Santana nodded, gripping onto her like the lifeline she hadn’t known she’d needed. She’d felt lonely for so, so long, always forced to be by herself in that massive house her parents didn’t even seem to call home anymore. And her abuela, though she loved her, was too rough and insensitive, to quick to take up for her father instead of trying to protect and sooth her. There was that and the fact that Santana knew her love was conditioned upon her being someone she wasn’t. 

When she finally started to calm, Rachel pressed a kiss to her cheek and pulled back to look at her, smiling softly at what she saw, though Santana wasn’t sure why. She knew how red and puffy the area around her eyes got when she cried like this. She knew she wasn’t anywhere near pretty tight now. But Rachel wiped her tears with all too kind eyes, gently tucking her wayward hair behind her left ear. 

“So, beautiful, how are we? Feeling a little better maybe? It’s okay if you aren’t. I know these things take time.” Santana sighed quietly, reaching out with her woefully free hand to link her fingers with Rachel’s. The happy little smile she got in return was enough to put a matching one on her face, and she lifted their linked hands to press a kiss against her saviors knuckles. 

“Thank you so much.” Comfort was rare in her life, as were people who seemed to genuinely care for her. Being held, soothed, and taken care of left her feeling vulnerable and off balance; adding that to the fear of even more abandonment she always felt when she was treated this way made her feel needy and desperate for more affection. Her emotional state was all over the place, and she honestly felt lost. 

“Of course, Santana. You’re always welcome. Now tell me, how’s your head one to ten?” Santana shrugged, leaning down to rest against Rachel’s strong shoulders. Her headache had faded down to a low throb, but she had forgotten how tired she was and how tight and achy her neck and shoulders were. She moved to stand, grabbing her juice and sipping at it as she helped Rachel up. 

“Two or three at the most. I’m fine, Rachel, thank you.” The shorter girl closed the distance between them, looping her arms around Santana’s shoulders to massage the tight tension out of the back of her neck with practiced fingers, leaving Santana unwound like well cooked collagen in her arms. 

“Hmm. Feels good. Been too long.”

“Since anyone gave you a massage? You’re an athlete, they should be regular.” Santana just barely shook her head, moaning quietly into Rachel’s neck when she soothed a particularly sensitive spot. 

“Since anyone really touched me at all. It’s really nice.” Rachel’s frown went unnoticed but she made a note that Santana was soothed by touch and that she should perhaps just caress her arms or hands every once and a while.

Once she was sure the older girl was free of tension spots and knots in the muscle she took to just caressing the skin, working her way around to the shoulders with both hands until she was running her fingers along that elegant collarbone and up to that area of the neck that was right behind her ears, where she herself sometimes retained tension. She worked her thumbs softly at first, building more pressure until Santana moaned into her neck, stumbling into her. 

“Fuck…Rachel!” softening the pressure again, she worked down under her ears then back up as Santana gasped into her neck. 

“Good there?” Rachel’s voice was suddenly breathy and deeper, husky. She closed the foot and a half between them, and Santana’s breath caught when Rachel’s breasts pressed into hers.

“So good. God… but maybe we should stop. This is a lot, right? I mean, I’m all sorts of scrambled right now, but if you keep touching me like this and I’m gonna want you to fuck me.” Santana stood on lightly trembling legs, her lips red from biting and eyes even darker than usual. She finally put space between them, sipping on her smoothie to keep her self occupied for a few moments.

This is exactly what she didn’t need when her head and heart were all mixed up this way. No matter how swiftly she’d been cast aside she still loved Brittany. And with the way Rachel had been caring for her, making her feel wanted? It would be all too easy to fall into the same old trap. Diving into a relationship with sex first thing was just the wrong idea; at least for her. That’s not what she wanted for herself or her heart.

Not anymore.

There was that issue, and then another; Santana just needed time to understand whether the sudden feelings she was overcome with were real. Rachel was nearly overwhelming her with kindness, compassion, and affection. How could she know whether or not she was just feeling this way because of how cherished Rachel made her feel.

She had spent so many years being this lonely, abandoned, girl; always cast aside, always left behind. The one person she did have would never love her for all of who she was.

How could she not want Rachel when she made her feel so cherished?

And so she needed time. Just a day to sort herself and her emotions and then more time with this angel before her.

“As if you’d let me top you.” Rachel joked, reaching up her hand to run a thumb along Santana’s lightly swollen lower lip. Her hands were taken, their fingers Intertwined. 

“I would. That’s… I mean I know how I portray myself but… yeah, that’s kind of how I like things when I can trust who I’m with. And I know I can trust you; or I hope so. But like I said, this is a lot for one day; I need some time to figure myself out and sort through how I feel about the Britt situation. What’s happening between us right now is… I feel it. I do. But I deserve better than to ruin something that could be so good for me by jumping into it with sex first thing. So do you. “ She relaxed when Rachel didn’t step away, instead wrapping her arms around her neck and nodding; focusing on her intently.

“Of course. I definitely understand, Santana; your feelings don’t just turn off like a switch. You’ve already said you feel scattered about the whole thing, and I respect you so much for doing what you feel is right for you, sweetheart. I know what it’s like to feel ambushed by your own feelings; it’s jarring. Anything steps we take it has to be at a pace each of us is completely comfortable with, okay.” 

Santana exhaled, feeling as if she was expelling at least ninety percent or her trepidation and fear. Rachel understood. They could do this as slowly, as carefully, as she needed.” Without much thought, Santana wrapped her arms around Rachel’s back, moving closer to hug her.

Rachel bugged her tightly but tenderly, sighing contentedly.

“Thank you.” 

Rachel retreated just enough to stretch up onto her toes and press a butterfly kiss to her forehead.

“Of course. Now, how about I mix you up another smoothie before you go? You can get a bit more sun while you wait.” Santana grinned and nodded.

“God, that sounds perfect.” Rachel’s answering smile was just as bright and warm as the sunlight and the way it felt on her skin. She felt the urge to sing, play her keyboard, or compose a piece of music entirely inspired by how much she felt like some little sapling on the jungle ground, blessed by a sliver of light through the canopy; bathed in brilliance and covered in butterflies.


End file.
